Blood Kiss
by TheVampireLucinda
Summary: Every vampire needs his or her daily dose of blood. So, one must wonder...what does the WWE's resident vampire do when the Thirst hits? It's not easy being Nosferatu...but that doesn't mean it isn't fun. Kevin Thorn and several others.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Blood Kiss

**Author: **TheVampireLucinda

**Summary:** Every vampire needs his or her daily dose of blood. Blood is warmth; blood is life; blood is fire; blood is sometimes even...love. Whatever it is, it is necessary. So, one must wonder...what does the WWE's resident vampire do when the Thirst hits? It's not easy being Nosferatu...but that doesn't mean it isn't fun.

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing...unless I randomly decide to insert another vampire into this...which may or may not be me... *ahem* XD Also, this fic will have a mixture of het and slash moments...depends on what my Muse is feeling hungry for.. ;) .By the way, this story isn't exactly supposed to have a plot...It's more just a series of one-shots following our dear BloodDrinker around. But, if a plot starts to develop, so be it. I'm cool with that. XD_

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Sometimes I can't believe my good luck.

I mean, it's not everyday that you find a job where not only are you surrounded by healthy and beautiful men and women, but also put in a situation in which you are allowed to be yourself without fear of suspicion or torment. Never in all my 500 years would I have guessed that such a day would come. It's one thing to survive; it's another to true live, and right now, I am truly living.

Well, "living" in the poetic sense, of course.

But, ah, let me pause for a moment, and introduce myself, for I am sure that you're wondering who it is that is 500 years old, and where such a being could possibly work.

I am known in this modern age Kevin Thorn, and I am a vampire. Nay, do not gainsay me; it's true. I can go into details if you want, but the short version of the story is that, as a young man, I had the fortune of running into a certain Prince of a land that is now called Romania, long since dead, or so everyone believed.

Well, no, not everyone. My Tutor warned me to stay away from the broken battlements of that cursed castle...and yet my curiosity drew me ever towards it. His horror stories only inflamed me. I had just entered my 2nd decade of life when my curiosity overcame my reason and fear, and I journey to that forbidden castle, alone, at night, searching for I had no idea what.

That is how I met _him_. Well, technically, his wolves met me first, and, though I was armed with my father's broadsword, I trembled to see so many. It was the dead of winter, but surprisingly warm; I remember snow, and not ice. The forest itself was magnificent, shimmering and shifting in the moonlight as though the very trees were bursting with life. Even the wolves were magnificent, in a deadly way.

I thought that I would be torn to shreds when, suddenly, _he_ into my line of sight, walking past the wolves as though they were merely pets. Looking back, I guess they _were_ his pets.

The first thing I remember thinking was that he was beautiful. His green eyes and long brown-black hair were all lustrous in the bright moonlight. His skin, pale as bone, seemed to have it's own radiance as he approached me with slow, light, soundless steps. And his lips! Never had I seen lips so red and full, not even on a woman, and when they curled into a soft smile, I could see the tips of extraordinarily sharp teeth. I was seized with the mad thought that he should kiss me.

The second thing I remember thinking was that I should run for my life. He was terrifying. He was unearthly. He was not of this world as I was. My Tutor had been right—I should have stayed away, and now I was going to die by the hand of this...this _creature_. I was alone in a deep forest, surrounded by wolves, and yet my blood was going to be spilled by a being that should have been impossible.

Much later, I learned, he found me beautiful as well in that first moment. He admired my foolish courage...called it a rare thing in these days of dishonorable peace. I watched his lips move as he spoke, although his voice, deep and rich, seemed oddly disconnected from them. I was entranced. I couldn't move. I wanted to scream.

When he was not three steps away from me I began to weep. I don't know why. He continued to smile—although, thank God, it wasn't malicious, or else I would have fainted dead away—and ran a long, thin finger through my dark hair.

"So, you have found me," he said, amusement evident in his voice. "What will you now do?"

I tried to speak, but my voice had died in my throat. My throat...

I placed a hand against my neck, protectively, eyes wide, breath coming out in short gasps. I knew well what he was, for my Tutor had told me the stories. They returned to me in a flood, and I grew even more afraid. I cringed away from his touch, feather-light against my head. To my own horror, I could feel the vein under my trembling hand warm and throbbing, surely beckoning him like some demonic signal. He gave me a patient smile and repeated his question. I figured it was best to answer, in the hope that I would not anger him.

"I...I don't know," I said in a low voice, trembling. "I just...I had to know if you...were real..." He took a step forwards, closing the distance between us in an instant, and I shut my eyes tightly. Several moments passed, and nothing happened that I could discern. I opened one eye; he was just standing there, observing me, and I dared not try and guess that he was thinking.

"Please, kill me quickly," I said somewhat desperately, fighting the urge to throw myself to the ground, embrace his knees and beg for mercy. I knew stories of his cruelty in life...How much more cruel had he become in death? And I knew for certain that I did not have the stomach for any torture he could inflict upon me. Even the _thought_ of being impaled—one of his preferred methods of execution, I had been told—made me want to scream.

"Kill you?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Why in this world would I do that?"

I had no answer, or at least, not one that I was willing to say aloud. He was obviously toying with me now...Just prolonging the inevitable... A low sob escaped my lips. I knew I was dead. This was Death, and he was standing in front of me, and I was simply going to die.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said simply, and my eyes grew wide as I stared at him blankly. Six words suddenly made a world of difference.

Thus began my odd friendship with the Dark Prince.

At first, our relationship consisted of him assuaging my fears—no easy task, I assure you—and I plying him with any and every question I dared to ask. He was a wealth of knowledge, and I would listen to him speak for hours without losing interest.

It did not take me long to realize that I was completely and utterly enchanted by him. Whether by some design of his, I'll never know, but I _do_ know that I was charmed, and soon enough, I found myself wondering about the softness of his pale skin, and the fullness of his red lips. I was falling in love with him. My parents, when they saw me, thought me smitten by some girl.

Oh, if only that had been the case.

The Prince, ever perceptive, knew of my desires, he later informed me, but waited for _me_ to ask for his kiss. He understood better than I that my desire for him was half genuine and half curiosity. I wondered what the feeling would be to have his red lips against my throat...Would he drink my blood if I asked him too? Would I die from it? Would he let me kiss him in return? These questions and so many more plagued me day and night, and soon I found myself unable to go even a minute without thinking about him.

Never will I forget that first time I kissed the Prince. I must have been mad. He welcomed me into his castle—I made a point of visiting him at least once every fortnight—and I embraced him as I always did, and he embraced me back. However, this time, I pressed my lips against his the moment I raised my head. He seemed pleasantly surprised, and, to my own surprise, he kissed me in return.

It is the first time in my life that I distinctly remember thinking that I loved someone. It was a startling revelation, and, although we did not exchange blood, I knew that it marked the sealing of some pact between us.

I wish I could say that our odd affair continued for years without trouble, but, as so often happens with humans, I not long after fell ill. Given the time period, it was not uncommon to become very sick for a small reason, nor was it uncommon to die from something easily curable, and I had developed a cough that slowly grew into a disease which claimed my strength and, soon, my life. I believe that it is called tuberculosis in modern terms, and I caught it from the village doctor who, ironically, died from it.

_He_ came to my village when he learned that I was ill. It was a most remarkable thing, seeing him walk amongst my family and the other villagers. He was so different from them all. They feared him, and my Tutor nearly died of fright when the Prince entered our home. I thought he had come to give me his farewell, for I had accepted my fate, but instead, he had an offer. I could be well, he explained, face more expressive than I had ever previously seen it, and never to fall ill again, if I but became as he was.

"Then I could kiss you at will, and forever," he whispered, pressing his red lips against my fevered forehead.

Even if I hadn't been sick and dying, I would have said yes, I loved him that much. I still do. I always will.

And so, 500 years later, here I am. I signed up to work with the WWE after I decided to reintegrate myself into society (the past hundred years or so have bored me beyond belief, and I saw no need to interact with the mortals). I had the fortune of running into a vampire who was also a Card Reader. She suggested that I join a wrestling company, something I had not considered at all, and she promised that she would come with me, for though she was not as old as I, she wanted to mingle with the mortals. Ah, don't we all...

Ariel and I made out debut together, and, since then, I have had unlimited access to the blood of the beautiful men and women of the WWE.

I never once dreamed that life could be so good.

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_So...how do you like it? Shall I continue?_

_Review?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello everyone! I'm so sorry that I've been AWOL for, like, two weeks. I was sick right before Thanksgiving (I thought I had gotten better, but I was wrong), and then when I actually was better...I was at home. Which was awesome...but with no way to upload stories. (sad face) So, I'll make it up to you all by posting...a lot of stuff. (laugh) Well, not a LOT, but more than usual, including one new story... (wink) I think y'all will like it._

_Anyway, Kevin has decided, without my permission, to comment on every chapter, preferably at the beginning. So, I let him. (whispering) It's not like I had a choice... So, we move on to the victims...Take it away, Kevin!_

_As always, thanks to everyone who has read/review etc... You all make me smile. :) _

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Kevin's Thoughts:**

_I'm sure some of you are wondering just who I have targeted in the past, and who I plan on targeting in the future. Well, I'll start off by telling you the tale of one of my favorite little conquests. He was a little guy...Ariel actually pointed him out to me, for she saw that I would have a match with him that night. As I had not fed in a while, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to grab a bite...

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_

Shannon Moore stumbled off to the back after his match with Kevin Thorn, holding his aching head and looking over his shoulder every few seconds. It had been a short match—and he knew he hadn't stood a chance the moment he locked up with the huge man. Thorn was strong, _very_ strong; in fact, Shannon had the distinct feeling that Thorn had been _toying_ with him during the match. The relatively new Superstar had thrown him around like a rag doll the entire match.

But that's not what frightened him. That's not what made him look over his shoulder as he headed back to the locker room, and it's not what made him jump at every sound he heard.

You see, right before Thorn delivered his finisher to Shannon, he had _kissed_ him. Shannon didn't know what to think, sitting on the top turnbuckle, when he felt the soft lips placed against his. And it hadn't been quick either—he could hear the disturbed hush that fell over the audience, and even the announce team fell into silence. And even though Thorn's hair blocked the scene from others, it was obvious what was happening.

After that, everything had gone black, and Shannon woke up staring at the lights.

However, he had the distinct feeling that Kevin Thorn wasn't finished with him yet.

That was why he was so jumpy now. The man, he knew, claimed to be a vampire. No one took him seriously, assuming that it was just a part of his gimmick, but Shannon was starting to become a believer.

'No one's skin is that cold,' he thought as he quickened his pace. 'Except maybe the Undertaker's. But I've never touched him, so I don't know. And no one's eyes are that bright...and when he kissed me I felt fangs, I swear...'

"Poor, poor Shannon," a female voice said from behind him, and Shannon whirled around quickly, eyes wide, heart pounding.

Ariel was standing there, thankfully alone, and beautiful, but still a frightening sight, and she was holding out a card to him, face down.

"I've read your Fortune," she continued, a sensual smile on her full lips. "And I thought that you should see it as well."

With trembling fingers, Shannon reached forwards and took the card, flipping it over so that eh could see the face.

It was a Reaper.

"Oh God," he whispered, dropping the card and beginning to back away. "Oh, shit..."

"Don't try to run away, Little One," Ariel taunted, taking several slow steps towards the young man. "It'll only makes things that much worse for you..."

With a short cry, Shannon turned on his heel and began to run, heart fit to burst out of his chest as Ariel's fading laughter rang in his ears. He ran right past the locker room and to the parking lot, the hell with his clothes and items, he was leaving _now_.

The exit of the building came into view, and he burst through the door with a gasp. A shock of cold autumn air hit his face, and he took a moment to catch his breath.

'I made it,' he thought, seeing the rental car he had used to get the arena right where he had left it. He took a step towards it; however, in that same instant, he felt something tug hard on his hair, pulling him backwards.

Shannon opened his mouth to scream when he felt a large, cold hand close over it, cutting off his cry before it could begin. He struggled against whoever was holding him, but was obviously over matched in both size and strength. With a gasp of pain he felt his arm twisted behind his back, and all of the air left his lungs when his back was slammed hard against the nearby wall.

"Thank you for leaving the arena," Kevin Thorn said with a small smile as he held Shannon Moore still with his body. "It makes this all that much more easy for me. No one will hear you, now."

"Let me go!" Shannon gasped, and felt his head suddenly wrenched back. Tears veiled his eyes when he felt the same soft lips he had felt in the ring ghost across his mouth again, and then slide down to his neck, causing a reluctant moan to come from him.

Kevin's lips curled into a smile as he licked and nipped at the younger man's neck, drawing more moans from Shannon, who had ceased to struggle against him.

"Please, let me go," Moore asked in a strained voice, almost pleadingly.

"But I cannot," Kevin said as his lips slid down to the smaller man's collar bone, hands now caressing his waist. "I have tasted your lips in the ring, and found them sweet. Have you not wondered why my finishing move was called the Dark Kiss?"

Shannon wanted to answer, but his mind was becoming clouded by the pleasure he was now feeling. His fear was still there, but he could not deny that Kevin's lips were soft and sensual...Almost gentle even...

A short gasp escaped his lips when he felt a sudden, piercing pain in his throat, but it was almost immediately consumed in a flash of pleasure that made him cry out. His back ached against the wall, pushing him all the more into Kevin Thorn's dark embrace. His arms, seemingly on their own accord, wrapped around the larger man's neck, grasping at the long strands of his red-and-black hair.

Shannon felt another pull—this one going right to his heart, and he cried out again. He wasn't feeling pain at all now, only pleasure that kept building with each passing second, like a succession of waves...

Kevin drank somewhat swiftly from Shannon, not wanting to immerse himself _too_ much in the pleasure of drinking the young man's blood. Truly, that gift was for a lover, and while Shannon was cute, Kevin's beloved he was not.

As the warm blood filled his mouth, Kevin savored it's taste for only a moment before swallowing. He started to fall into a trance himself—it had been so long since he'd had a good drink—but caught himself, and pulled away carefully from Shannon's neck, kissing the two tiny puncture wounds he left in his wake.

Shannon had collapsed against him, unconscious, and Kevin carried him over towards his rental car. With a nod, he placed the smaller man in the back seat, lying him down carefully so that he would not injure himself when he woke up.

"Sleep well, Small Prince," Thorn whispered, running a hand through Shannon's spiked locks before closing the door and melting into the lengthening shadows of the night.

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_Review?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Two chapters in one night?! Hellz yeah. (laughs) I write all this stuff in advance anyway...Well, not too far in advance, but far enough..._

_Bah, I'm babbling. Enjoy! ;)_

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Kevin's Thoughts:**

_After the initial thrill from Shannon's blood wore off, I realized that I was still...hungry. I had, after all, only taken a little bit of blood from him...He was very much alive and well even after I had finished. However, this meant that I would have to take more blood, and from another person, especially if I wanted to keep to my promise to not never take a life when I took blood._

_So, I waited in the shadows for an appropriate victim to pass by, and, soon enough, ECW's own incompetent exhibitionist entered my vision...

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_

Kelly Kelly was walking down the hallway, carefully adjusting her revealing top, when she noticed a shadow in the corner of her eye. She turned quickly towards it, pretty eyes wide, but could see nothing.

As much as she loved working in ECW, she hated how creepy it was sometimes. The arenas, the fans, sometimes even the other wrestlers... It was such a weird environment to be in all the time...So different from the warm, friendly, well-lit places she was used to...Not to mention her jealous boyfriend Mike Knox lurking around...

"You look lost," a deep voice said from behind her, and Kelly turned around slowly. Her heart was pounding, but then she sighed with relief when she saw that it was one of the wrestlers.

"Oh, thank God," she whispered, placing a hand over her chest. "I thought you were someone else." She smiled brightly. "You're...Kevin Thorn, right?"

Thorn smiled kindly back. "I am. And you are...Kelly?"

"Actually, it's Kelly Kelly," the blond giggled, shaking her head. "A name so nice they named me twice."

Kevin gave her a blank look as she laughed at her own joke, and then coughed. "Well, as I was saying...You seemed a but lost back here. Do you need any help finding your way out?"

Kelly shook her head again. "No, actually, I was just on my home...Big day tomorrow, so I'm going to get a lot of sleep." She started to walk away, when, suddenly, she felt a soft hand on her upper arm. It startled her—there was no way he could have moved that closely that quickly, especially without making a sound...

"Are you _sure_ you don't want an escort home?" Kevin Thorn asked quietly.

"No, I'm sure I'll be fine," Kelly started to say as she turned to him. "I..."

Her voice began to trail off as her eyes came in contact with his. 'Are his eyes...red?' she wondered as she stared into Thorn's eyes, eyes that seemed to glow with a light that intensified more and more every second. She blinked, feeling suddenly light-headed.

"You don't look well," Kevin noted, gaze seeming to sharpen with each word as his grip on her arm became slack. "Perhaps I should help you out of the building."

Kelly Kelly found herself nodding, although she wasn't all too sure _why_ she was nodding. "I don't...feel well..." she repeated slowly, voice with an almost mechanical timbre. "Maybe you should...help me out of the building..."

Thorn smiled, revealing on the barest glimpse of his fangs. "Of course," he said with mock sincerity, slipping her arm into the crook of his elbow. "It would be my pleasure."

The blond woman felt as though she was in a daze as she followed Kevin Thorn's lead towards the exit. With heavy lidded eyes she began to study his features, his long dark hair, his still-glowing eyes, his pale skin and...his lips...

'He's cute,' she thought absently, leaning against him as they walked. 'I want to kiss him. But then Mike would be mad.'

"He'd never have to know," Kevin suggested, and Kelly blinked in confusion before blushing red.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I said that out loud--"

"You didn't," Thorn said simply, placing a finger against her lips. "Do not worry. I'm not offended." His lips lengthened into a full smile, and Kelly felt her breath catch in her throat.

'He's beautiful,' she thought, turning in an almost drunken manner to face him. Her mind was filled with visions of kissing him, and so much more, and before she realized it, she began to lean forwards as much from her own thoughts as by some odd outside force...

Kelly Kelly's arms slid around Kevin Thorn's neck as her lips pressed carefully against his, as her body arched into his. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin—it almost felt like he had a fever—and when he opened his mouth to allow her tongue access, she found his mouth just as hot as his body.

Kevin smiled inwardly at the barely-suppressed groan that came from the woman in front of him, and he pulled away from her mouth only long enough to attach his lips to her neck.

"Please...take me," she was whispering, and when she leaned back into his arms, she felt him place a trail of kisses along the exposed flesh of the top of her chest. Now _her_ skin felt as though she was on fire, and her mind, clouded with lust and heat, would simply not function. If someone had asked her name in that moment, she would only have been able to give them a blank stare.

"So beautiful and young," Kevin said softly as he brought his lips back up to her neck, hearing her gasp as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh. He found the vein instantly and bit into it, holding the feverish girl's body tightly as she pressed against him, moaning softly.

'How different the blood of a woman,' he thought, arms tightening around Kelly's body as her blood filled his mouth. He could feel her hardened nipples brush against him through her shirt, and for a moment he regretted the fact that he did not have time to make love to her. It had been a long time since he had been with a human woman...

'Ah, hell, there's always Ariel,' he told himself as he swallowed another large draught of burning blood. As much as he loved Ariel, and as much fun as they had together, he knew that he would always prefer the blood of humans, as, he maintained, all vampires did. It was thicker, sweeter, hotter...so much more _pleasurable_ than vampire blood.

Now _he_ was moaning, eyes closing as he became lost in that fuller, darker pleasure. However, before he could become too lost, he pulled away, letting the last of the burning red drops slide down his throat, sending a shiver over his now-flushed skin.

Kevin looked down at Kelly, who was still very warm, and breathing somewhat heavily as she collapsed into his arms. With a small smile, Thorn carried her down to the dressing room where he knew that Mike Knox would be, and knocked politely.

The large, hairy man opened the door with an annoyed expression on his face. "What?" he growled, drying his hair, obviously having just come from a match.

Kevin held out the girl in his arms. "You should take better care of your girlfriend," he said with a sneer. "She seems to have passed out from a fever...I found her in the hallway."

Knox rolled his eyes. "Stupid girl," he muttered, taking her out of Thorn's arms and laying her on the bench. "First she has eyes for Punk, and now she's passing out in the hallway." He shook his head. "Useless."

"Well, maybe not entirely," Thorn said suggestively, grinning as Mike turned to him with an angry expression. "At least, not any more useless than _you_."

"You bastard--" Knox tried to grab the front of Kevin's shirt, but was stopped short by the vampire's hand over his wrist.

"Watch yourself, Knox," Thorn said solemnly, squeezing Mike Knox's wrist just hard enough to make the man cry out, and then releasing him. With a gentlemanly nod, he turned his back and walked away, leaving Knox standing at the door, rubbing his wrist and shaking his head.

"Freak," he muttered, turning back to Kelly, eyes widening as her hair slipped back from her neck as she turned her head, revealing two tiny, red holes on her neck.

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_Review?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Ah, now here, truly, is a long neglected story...I'm so sorry, KevinMuse!_

_KevinMuse: No worries; You'll make it up to me._

_(nervous laugh) Of course... XD Anyway, this chapter is thanks to kittylord6776, who gave me the victim, and some of the surrounding events...and the motivation. (wink) So, I dedicate this chapter to you...and KevinMuse thanks you as well. He hasn't had mush time to play..._

_Enjoy!_

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**Kevin's Thoughts:**

_It wasn't often that I frequented RAW, but, when I did, it was to hunt for a specific person. This night, it was the WWE Champion who caught my eye._

_ Not for his title, nor for his in-ring persona, but for the pure, raw emotion he displayed during his match tonight. He had lifted up the Big Show for an FU, and it was clear that every pore in his body sweated out his exertion. Cena actually completed the move—and I, for one, was more than a little impressed. _

_ I decided to pay him a visit that very night. I am, after all, a hard man to impress. And a good man's blood is _so_ hard to find._

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Cena winced as he made his way to his hotel room, still aching from his match earlier that night.

Though he had seen the trainer and taken a long, hot shower after FU-ing the Big Show, the strain in his shoulder muscles persisted.

"Maybe...I shouldn't have done that," he muttered to himself with a small smile, stepping onto the elevator and greatly anticipating bed. Cena would, and often did, go to great lengths to please his fans...and appease the older wrestling fans who hated him. Only time would tell, he decided, if he could win everyone over.

Somehow, though, the WWE Champion doubted it.

As the elevator "dinged" to his floor, Cena felt a chill pass over his skin. Instinctively, he turned around, but of course, there was no one there. Carefully, he stepped out into the hallway, and noted immediately that it was completely empty—a very odd thing indeed considering that a show had just ended. Usually the place was bustling with tired wrestlers...

"I'm exhausted," he told himself aloud. "It's making me jumpy."

"Nice job out there tonight, John."

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Cena turned around and came face-to-face with a smiling visage and too-bright eyes.

"Jesus!" he gasped, taking a step back. It took him a long moment to place the person in front of him. "Oh...You're...Kevin Thorn?" It was more a question than anything else.

The dark man nodded, smile never leaving his face. "I'm surprised you know my name," he breathed, standing far too close for Cena's liking. "I don't often come to RAW, and the three brands don't have many dealings with one another..."

John laughed nervously, unsure if the man was joking, or trying to make a point. He wanted badly to ask him just what the hell was he doing here, but bit back the question before it could leave his lips.

"So, uh, are SmackDown and ECW staying here too?" was the one he settled on after a long moment. Thorn's nod in the negative did nothing to lessen his unease.

"I'm just here to tell you congratulations; you had a very good match." Kevin's smile widened as he saw Cena relax slightly at the praise. "Though wrestling fans can be brutal, and sometimes fickle, I think that they all acknowledge and appreciate honest effort."

John nodded once, blue eyes relaxing. "Thanks man. If nothing else, I appreciate your words. They mean a lot to me..." His glance returned to Kevin's eyes, and he felt himself becoming suddenly quite tired.

Inadvertently, he yawned.

"Sorry," he said quickly, slightly embarrassed. "I guess...I'm more tired than I thought..."

Kevin smiled, and put an arm across Cena's shoulders, laughing silently to himself as the younger man flinched. "Come, I'll help you..."

"No...It's okay..." John protested, attempting to raise his arms to push his fellow Superstar away. In the back of his mind, he knew that there was something terribly odd about this situation, but he found it incredibly hard to think through the sudden cloudiness that entered his thoughts.

"Come, walk with me," Kevin urged, and Cena found himself unable to disobey.

They walked down the hallway together, John looking for all the world like a sleepwalker. If someone had exited their room at any point during their trek, they would have inquired unto the WWE Champion's health, because there was a decidedly glassy look in his normally lively eyes.

Unfortunately for Cena, no one even opened a door.

And it was with more than a little trepidation that Cena watched—almost as though through someone else's eyes—as Kevin Thorn, a man he barely knew, opened the door to his hotel room and ushered him inside.

"I don't...understand..." Cena started to protest; but his questioning ended in a sharp gasp and a faint cry of pain as Thorn shoved him into the wall, pinning him there with his infinitely-greater strength.

"Sorry, Champ," Kevin apologized insincerely. "I forgot about the shoulders...I'll take a look at it when I'm done."

Although Cena could only turn his head a little, he was certain that he saw the white flash of fangs set in a sinister smile.

"A real vampire?" he managed to whisper. Now _that_ brought him somewhat awake, although his body remained lethargic, and his muscles seemed completely out of his control.

He was, after all, trying to very hard to run away.

Kevin merely laughed. "Such a kind boy," he mused, running a hand over Cena's short-cropped hair. "A good heart, and a gentle soul. The world needs more people like you."

John started to reply, but his lips froze in an open, silent gasp when he felt lips graze the back of his neck.

"I'm not...into guys," he managed to growl, gritting his teeth. It was getting harder and harder to talk.

Again, though, Kevin just laughed. "It matters not to me," he answered, drawing his tongue across Cena's bare shoulders, taking great pleasure in the goosebumps that arose. To his surprise, though, the young man did not gasp, nor did he moan.

He really wasn't enjoying this!

"You're quite the surprising one," Kevin admitted, spinning Cena around so that they stood face to face. The human's blue eyes were drowsy, but determined.

'Determined for what purpose?' Kevin wondered to himself, looking the WWE Champion over. It seemed to him, suddenly, that he had laid eyes upon this man before...had known him long ago...

"Oh, fuck me!" Kevin yelled aloud as realization dawned on him, startling Cena even in his sleepy state. "You're his great, great, great grandson!"

Cena looked at the odd man with uncomprehending eyes. "What...? Who...?"

Again, he was unable to finish his question, although this time it was due to the lips that came crashing into his.

Weakly, he pushed against the man—no, vampire!—trying to free himself, but Kevin was insistent. Strong hands both held him up, and kept his head in place. To his great embarrassment, he realized that he would have fallen to the ground had Kevin not been holding him up, because of the intensity of the kiss.

"_Now_ you like it," Kevin laughed, releasing Cena's lips only to attack his neck.

"I don't...like..."

Though somewhere in the back of his mind John knew what was coming, it still was a vivid, painful surprise when he felt two sharp punctures in his flesh.

"Ah, shit!" he moaned loudly, gripping the edges of Kevin's long coat as he began to sink. His gasps were short, perfectly in sync with each pull of blood from his veins. A terrifying weak feeling began to make its way through his body, along with a chill that he instinctively knew meant the onset of death.

"I...don't...want to die," he whispered, still sinking, though he knew not where, nor how far. His blue eyes focused on the dark ceiling, which seemed to be swimming with a bunch of colors that all resembled black.

All at once, the feeling faded, and he found himself lying on the floor, still looking up.

"I'll not kill you," Thorn explained, standing over John and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Although, you are his child far removed." A brief, angry look flashed into his eyes, but quickly dissipated when he looked into Cena's.

"Ah, the sins of the father," Kevin laughed sadly, as he lifted Cena from the floor and carried him over to the bed, even going so far as to remove his shoes and tuck him in. He knew that the man would fall asleep soon, and wouldn't remember much, if anything in the morning.

"Goodnight, Sweet Prince," he whispered with a bow, placing a soft kiss on Cena's smooth forehead, watching the blue eyes close on their own accord. Biting the tip of his finger until it bled, he held it above Cena's slightly-parted lips and let three drops fall in his mouth.

"That should take care of the muscle pain," he explained to the sleeping man. "And I'm glad that your great, great, great, grandfather is probably rolling in his grave because I helped you.

"After all, the man was convinced I was completely evil after hunting me all him damn life."

The sleeping Cena, of course, did not respond, and Kevin Thorn shrugged. Though the blood was hot and potent, flowing into every corner of his body, the memory of those long ago days chilled him, and it was with no small joy that he imagined the comfort of Ariel's arms.

Well...not _just_ her arms.

* * *

_(laughing) Review? ArielMuse is going to kill me...and slowly..._


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